Pistol Packing Ladies

You can rewire your brain to be happy by recalling at least three things you’re grateful for every day.

His nerves were shaking furiously as Cree pulled up to an elegant looking in a cul-de-sac. Someone exited the vehicle in front of him and began walking towards the front door. Cree grabbed his little Tupperware of cookies, and his homemade pistol case, and stepped into the cold night air.

“Hello Cree!” The hostess greeted him warmly and invited him to join her and another lady inside. The three of them went straight to a beautiful basement with a classroom already set up for the evening’s activity.

The hostess took the time to introduce the other lady, and then the subsequent five that arrived. Once everyone settled around the table, they each pulled out their cleaning kits, and began cleaning their weapons.

Cree sat awkwardly for a moment before admitting to the hostess that his weapon was already spotless. The Marines had taught him well to keep his weapon like new. She cheerfully disappeared for a moment before producing a pile of uncleaned pistols from her most recent class.

The rest of the evening was spent with everyone enjoying friendly conversations about the Military, Virginia’s new attempts at gun control, handgun lessons, range opportunities, and some other miscellaneous interjected bits.

By the end of the night, Cree felt almost entirely at ease with the group. The Pistol Packing Ladies were most definitely a healthy support group.

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